


First:

by lashtonirmings (randomusername)



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-12
Updated: 2015-06-16
Packaged: 2018-03-30 05:22:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3924412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/randomusername/pseuds/lashtonirmings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Meeting was a shock<br/>Shy smiles were expected<br/>Love was a surprise</p>
<p>When Delaney Armstrong moved from California to Australia, she planned on finding a quiet niche and getting through the rest of high school with as little difficulty as possible. Meeting and falling for Michael Clifford was something she hadn't expected at all. It seems that the phrase "opposites attract" holds more truth than she ever would have thought.</p>
<p>A/N: This is a collaborative story, co-written by hemmocrat and lashtonirmings on Tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

_First sight_

_Don't say goodbye_

_Keep your eyes on me_

_Give me a try_

 

_First touch_

_Like fire and ice_

_I'll take the burn_

_To me it feels nice_

 

_First kiss_

_Opened the doors_

_Will you be mine?_

_Because I'm already yours_

 

_First heartbreak_

_Torn in two_

_Don't know where to go_

_I'm nothing without you_

 

\- hemmocrat


	2. Meeting.

_Well, I didn't see that coming._

That seemed to have been Delaney Armstrong's catchphrase for the past month. She hadn't seen it coming when her father had decided to pack up their life in California and move to the other side of the world, literally. She hadn't seen it coming when she was forced to say goodbye to everything and everyone she knew and was comfortable with. She hadn't seen it coming, but now she was walking through the halls of Norwest Christian College dressed in a pristine, conservative, and - quite frankly - unflattering school uniform. And what did it say about her as a person if the greatest surprise out of everything that'd happened was that she was now walking towards detention? She  _definitely_ didn't see that coming.

Delaney Armstrong was what you would call a "good girl." Despite coming to a new school in the middle of her tenth year, she'd been doing well academically just as she had back home. She got excellent marks, was never truant, and skilled in almost everything she set her mind to. So detention was anything but a regular pastime for her. Of course, she'd done nothing wrong, not really. She was still getting used to the campus and had shown up only two minutes late to class. Unfortunately, Professor Tight-Ass was having none of it - so here she was,  _early_ for detention, sat alone at the front of the room as her supervisor glared at her whilst filing her nails.

She was grateful, at least, that no one else would be sharing her punishment today.

"Ah, Mr. Clifford, tardy as always. What have you done this time?"

It seemed like she spoke too soon.

Delaney looked up from the doodles in her notebook, spotting a blue-haired boy rolling into the mostly-vacant classroom on a beat-up skateboard, his wrinkled uniform un-tucked from his trousers, which were rolled up at the bottoms, revealing his mismatched socks.

"Nothing to worry your pretty little head over, Candace. And I like to call it fashionably late," the boy quipped, stepping off his board and bowing slightly at the waist, a sarcastic smile stretched across his pink lips. He turned, not failing to notice the new meat sat at the front of the room. He sent a wink to Delaney before brushing past her and walking to take, what was probably, his usual seat at the back of the room. "Did you do something new to your hair, Candace? It looks positively radiant."

"No. And please, call me Miss Johnson," she sneered.

Delaney silently watched the entire exchange from behind her notebook, shrinking a bit in her seat so she wouldn't be caught in the crossfire. After a moment of silence, Miss Johnson stood from her desk and moved to stand in front of Delaney.

"Now that we're all here, let me explain the rules since we have a newcomer," the old woman redirected her focus on to the girl in front of her. "No electronics, no talking, and absolutely no bothering me."

Without further explanation, Miss Johnson left the room, leaving Delaney alone with the blue-haired boy at the back of the room.

"Well," he sighed, his chair scraping against the linoleum as he stood from his seat. "I'm out of here."

Delaney gaped at him, watching him strut towards the same door that Miss Johnson had just exited. He looked back at her, his green eyes looking her up and down and causing her to feel slightly uncomfortable. "You coming?"

" _What_ ?" She croaked in disbelief.

He rolled his eyes, merely nodding his head towards the door as an answer.

"Won't we get in more trouble?"

"How cute. You actually care?" He laughed making Delaney's cheeks flame red as she scowled at him. "Candace doesn't give two shits about what we do. That's why I love her. Now, are you going to sit here staring at the wall for another hour and a half like a loser?"

The more he taunted her, the more she felt her inhibitions leave her. Delaney had never been one to allow someone else to talk down on her. She was as stubborn as they came, never backing down from a challenge and always wanting to prove people wrong. So she packed away her notebook and pulled her bag over her shoulder before shoving past him and through the door.

She'd made it halfway down the hall when she noticed he wasn't following her. She turned around to see him still standing at the threshold of the detention room, his jaw slack as if he hadn't expected her to actually go with him.

"Well, are you coming or not?" She smirked at him as she walked backwards through the halls, keeping eye contact with him.

He chuckled to himself as he set his board on the ground and skated by her.

_Well, I didn't see that coming._


	3. Introductions.

A wise philosopher once said, “You can’t turn a bad girl good. But once a good girl’s gone bad, she’s gone forever.” 

Or was that Jay Z? 

Either way, the thrill of skipping out of detention was undeniable and Delaney couldn’t help but feel guilty for finding it the tiniest bit exciting. For a moment she would allow herself to indulge in the rapid drum of her beating heart, an epic soundtrack accompanying an epic escape. Every nerve in her body was set aflame, making her blood boil beneath her skin and heating her body from the inside out.

 Clearly she didn’t get out much.

 “So, you got a name?” The boy asked when they finally reached the front steps of the school, jolting the first-time-ditcher out of her reverie.

 “Delaney,” she answered proudly, taking long strides to match his faster pace on the skateboard.

He nodded, thinking to himself for a moment before he spoke again. “I’m going to call you Laney.” She rolled her eyes, but didn’t argue, knowing it would probably be useless.

 The afternoon was sweltering, as Australia characteristically was this time of year, the sun beating down on her porcelain skin like a fist to a punching bag. Delaney was still getting used to the heat and, though she’d only stepped out of the shelter of the school’s air con a few minutes ago, she could already feel the beads of sweat collecting at her hairline. Even living in “Sunny California” for all sixteen years of her life hadn’t prepared her for this weather. She was entirely confused as to how Michael, who was (and she never thought this was possible) paler than her, had not combusted the instant he stepped out into the sun. Or at least why he didn’t seem as affected by the heat as she was.

 Maybe the adrenaline was doing things to her.

 She really needed to get out more.

 Peering over at boy gliding before her, her eyes widened when he began to fully unbutton his shirt and slipped the thin material off of his shoulders. An audible sigh of relief barely escaped her lips when she realized he wasn’t about to suggest they go streaking before she was clamping her mouth shut. He stuffed his uniform into his backpack, his alabaster biceps now revealed thanks to the sleeveless Green Day shirt he had been hiding underneath.

“How about you?” She wondered aloud, attempting to cover up her reaction to him shedding his clothes. She’d been mindlessly following him this entire time and barely remembered that she still didn’t know his first name. “Or should I just call you Mr. Clifford?”

“Michael works,” he laughed.

“How do I know that’s your real name?”

 “You’ve just met me and you already don’t trust me? I’d reckon that’s a new record,” he deadpanned.

 She ignored his comment, feeling slightly guilty for judging him so quickly, but she couldn’t be too sure.

 “So what were you in for?” He asked and she smiled, thankful that he wasn’t actually upset about her last comment and was switching the subject.

 “What do you think I was in for?”

 “Hmm… let’s see,” Michael looked her up and down and tapped his chin in thought. “You were too smart and made the other kids feel so bad about themselves that they all cried.”

 Delaney snorted, covering her mouth in a useless attempt to trap the offending sound inside.

“Cute laugh,” Michael commented nonchalantly. Though she’d only known him for a total of twenty minutes, she could tell that he had an infuriating way of handing out compliments like they were nothing. She was having a hard time discerning whether or not they were genuine.

 “So why were you in detention? I take it you’re a frequent visitor.” The words left her mouth without thought and she cursed herself internally for having such little rule over her own tongue.

 “Perceptive, aren’t we? Or judgy… or both,” he chuckled, setting Delaney’s heart at ease when he didn’t show any signs of offense by her words. “Most of the time it’s nothing big. Not following dress code and not being in class when I’m supposed to be,” he shrugged in answer.

 Her mind latched onto "most of the time," her curiosity growing like a starved child with every small ounce of information he fed her.

 He refocused his eyes on the pavement, his left foot stepping off the board every once in a while to push off the ground and launch him further and faster away from her. She watched him move, astounded by how graceful skateboarding could look, especially with his tall frame. Skateboarding, to Delaney, had always seemed more like an act of rebellion than a sport. Perhaps she needed to stop judging books by their covers.

 “So where are we going?” She finally asked after they had walked a good distance from school.

 “Here.”

 Delaney looked up, her golden eyes taking in the building before her.

 It was a dump.

 Not literally, of course, though it very well could be. She raised her eyebrows inquisitively, waiting for Michael to give her an explanation as to why she was now standing in front of, what looked to be, an abandoned warehouse. The place must have been decades old, the concrete walls colored brown after years of accumulating dirt and grime. One rusted metal door stood guard of the building and the small rectangular window in it had been broken in. She imagined Michael taking a crowbar to the glass the first time he’d discovered the place, his pale inked arm reaching in to unlock the door from the inside.

 This time he grabbed the handle from the outside, a shrill screech signaling their entrance, making Delaney cringe at the sound.

_Well, if there are any murderers around, they definitely know we’re here now._  She thought morbidly.

 It was dark and eerily silent. The only useful senses she could employ were her sense of smell (though, with the scent of sweat mingling with the dusty air, she desperately wished that she couldn’t use that either) and her sense of hearing, a constant dripping sound echoing in her ears like a metronome.

 “Michael?” She whisper shouted when she no longer felt his presence beside her. “Michael?”

 “I’m here,” he assured her the same moment she felt his hand on her shoulder. “I just need to find the lights and then–”

 “YOU SHALL NOT PASS!”

 A scream pierced through the building, the sound of it resounding off the concrete walls sounding like a cacophony of terrified cries. The lights finally flashed on and, as she looked around with labored breaths at the four boys staring at her, she realized the sound had come from only her.

 “You dick,” Michael shoved the boy who was wearing a red bandana to push back his curly hair. “She almost had a heart attack. I can get you out of a lot of things, but if she suddenly hits the ground from, like, having an aftershock or something – you’re on your own, mate.”

 “Okay first of all, Michael, she isn’t an earthquake. Second of all, I didn’t know you were bringing a girl,” the boy defended himself sheepishly, turning to face Delaney for the first time with an apologetic smile, a rosy blush creeping up on his dimpled cheeks. “Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

 “Oh, no problem,” Delaney tried sounding unaffected, though she continued trying to steady her breath. “Just some minor heart palpitations.”

 “Guys, this is–”

 “Delaney, right?” A deep voice questioned from behind the bandana boy.

 “Laney, actually,” Michael argued.

 “Delaney, _actually_.”

 “Laney,” Michael reaffirmed, rolling his eyes to mimic the same action that Delaney had just displayed.

 “Yeah, I know you!” The blonde boy called out excitedly. “We have maths together. I’m Luke.”

 Delaney scoured her thoughts for any recollection of a lanky blonde boy in her math class, finally landing on the memory of him coming up to the whiteboard after a particularly difficult pop quiz and surprising the teacher and, honestly, the entire class when he had correctly explained how he had solved every question. “Right. Luke. You’re the deceptively smart kid.”

 “Not really,” he blushed instantaneously. “But thanks. And you’re the unquestionably smart American kid,” he quipped back, her own flush now challenging the redness on his cheeks.

 “Nice to meet you, Delaney. I’m Ashton,” the boy that had nearly caused her death proclaimed, stretching out his toned arm towards her. “And that one over there is Calum,” he pointed to the grinning tan boy behind him.

 “Hey, sorry for scaring you,” Calum chuckled, earning an elbow to the ribs by Ashton.

 “Laney here was in detention with me. She made a kid cry.”

 “Sounds badass,” Ashton commented. “But I didn't peg you as the bully-type.”

 “I’m not and I didn’t make anyone cry. I’ve never been in detention before and I only was there because Professor Wallace had a tantrum about being two minutes late to class. I told him I was still trying to remember my way around campus, but he wouldn’t even listen.”

 “Wallace is a dick,” Calum groaned. “So you’re new, right? Where are you from?”

 “California.”

 “Nice,” Calum seemed to approve. “A California girl. I hear they’re unforgettable.”

 She half expected to hear a line about seeing her daisy dukes and a bikini on top, but once again she was left proven wrong. Delaney had never been one to feel like she fit in with people, not so quickly at least. There was only one person that she had ever clicked so easily with, but that was something she didn't like to think about. She was beginning to feel nervous that she already felt so comfortable with this group of, as her father would probably call them, “misfits and rebels.”

 “So Ash was going to drive us all to the beach. We heard there was going to be a bonfire tonight. You guys coming?” Calum asked.

 Michael nodded right away. It probably was like any other night for him to be hanging out late with his friends and a bunch of other kids from school.

 Delaney on the other hand. “Will they have alcohol there?”

 “Hell yeah,” Calum cheered, leaving the warehouse behind Ashton and Luke and hopping into their van, not realizing that Delaney wasn’t inquiring out of excited interest, but rather prudence.

 She scrunched her eyebrows in thought, her little pink tongue poking out of the side of her mouth, as she followed Michael outside, mulling over the pros and cons of going out tonight, analyzing the situation, and coming to a rational conclusion. Alcohol was a definite no, but she could still go and not drink. She’d barely just met these boys though, so maybe it was a bad idea either way. She faced Michael who had already been watching her with curious green eyes, seemingly amused if the small pink smile was anything to go by.

 “Has the jury reached a verdict?”

 “Uh,” she began lamely. There was no excuse she could give him without seeming like she was being judgmental or a prude and, for some reason; she seemed to care what Michael thought of her. “I have a lot of homework to do tonight. I think I’d better go home.”

 Michael’s smile left as fast as it came and she felt as though she was shrinking under his scrutinizing gaze. She felt like an open diary and, somehow, Michael had found the key. His eyes squinted as they scanned her face, searching for something she couldn’t quite place, but she’d known he’d found it when his brows knitted together and his lips pulled down into a grimace.

 “Why won’t you come?” He investigated further, unsatisfied with her initial answer. She was shocked to say the least. Most people would have let it go, even if they had detected a little white lie. Michael wasn’t like anyone she’d ever known. His stubbornness rivaled her own.

 “It’s just that,” she sighed, nervously running her fingers through her long auburn hair. “It’s just that I don’t really know you, any of you. I don’t even know why I’m still here.”

 If it was even possible, Michael’s eyebrows migrated even closer to each other, his disbelief evident on his face. “It’s not like I’m a serial killer.”

 “Well how would I know that?” Before she could hold her tongue, it had already spat out its judgment. Her words were like venom and – no matter how delicately she tried to control her mouth – it was no use. The poison was already laced around her teeth and her voice would carry the toxins with them as they escaped her lips, wounding its victims with even the smallest sentence. “I didn’t mean–”

 “Fine,” Michael turned without hearing her explanation, shrugging as though he didn’t care what she had to say. “Suit yourself. Can I at least walk you home?”

 He caught her off guard once again. She’d basically just insinuated that she wouldn’t be surprised to know his criminal record was extensive and here he was offering to see her home safely. Her mouth failed to make words, her mind at war as she struggled to come up with an answer, but he took her silence as a negative.

 “Right,” he stated monotonously. “I guess you don’t want a potential murderer knowing where you live.” He forced his hands into the pockets of his pants as he began to back away toward the van where the other three boys were waiting for him. “That’s fine. Guess I’ll see you around. Bye, Laney.”

 Her mouth hung open as she watched him enter the van, her answer still lodged in her throat though it was pointless now. She noticed him shake his head, blue hair brushing back and forth against his forehead in response to a question one of the boys must have asked, punctuating his answer with a shrug of his shoulders. The car pulled out of its spot on the curb as the window rolled down and revealed a smiling Luke, his blonde hair blowing as the vehicle began to drive away.

 “See you in class tomorrow, Delaney!”

 When the car was no longer in view, she made her way back to school, kicking pebbles across the pavement as she replayed her conversation with Michael in her mind. Why was she so scared? Why was she so stupid? Obviously Michael was not a serial killer. In fact, he seemed like a decent guy, though she’d admit he was intimidating at first sight. A potential new friend had just been thrown out the window because she was too scared to take a chance, so she decided to take it out on an empty coke can that she found lying on the street, kicking it the same way she’d just kicked Michael aside.

 She was now left back at school, making her way back to detention. There was nothing for her to do since she’d missed the first bus home and her dad couldn’t pick her up. So she’d have to wait. Just as she had suspected, the room was empty and she took her same seat at the front.

 Time passed slowly. What felt like hours had only been about half of one and when the clock struck 4:30, Miss Johnson reentered the room, a shocked expression appearing on her face when her eyes landed on Delaney as if she hadn’t expected to find her where she’d left her.

 “You’re free to go,” she declared, not even bothering to acknowledge her missing person.

 Delaney waited alone at the bus stop for another thirty minutes. Her only company: thoughts of a blue-haired boy and the way she had made him frown.


	4. Understandings

Three days passed without so much as even a glimpse of Smurf-blue hair and a pierced brow. Delaney had hardly forgotten her previous encounter with Michael Clifford. In fact, she found herself often worrying that it might have been her last and only one since she'd gone and messed it all up 

The day after the detention incident, she'd walked back into school with tired eyes and weighted shoulders (and not just because she'd been carrying three massive text books in her bag).

She was only further reminded of her guilt when she'd seen Luke's bright smile beaming at her when she'd walked into her math class.

"Hey, Delaney!" He chirped.

She nodded, a small quirk of her lips serving as some sort of lame excuse for a smile as she walked to the opposite corner of the room and took a seat, avoiding conversation with him for the remainder of the class period.

The same routine had passed for those three days, until Thursday rolled around and Luke came up to her after a pop quiz.

"Want to be my partner?" He wondered, that ever-present grin on his slim face. After each of their pop quizzes, their professor had required that they pair up and correct each other's tests and then help their partner fix any wrong answers.

Delaney only smiled in answer and Luke quickly dragged a chair closer to her desk, straddling it backwards as he switched quizzes with her. They examined each other's papers in silence, switching their focuses from the papers to the board where the correct answers were written. He chewed on his red pen, pausing only once to scribble onto her quiz. She didn’t bother taking out a colored pen because, as she’d expected, he'd gotten every answer right.

They re-exchanged their tests and she smiled when she saw that the marks he'd made earlier were just a smiley face and her perfect score written in the top right corner.

"Well that was easy," Luke chuckled, glancing around the room to see their classmates still muttering explanations and correcting tests. "So what have you been up to, Delaney?"

Truthfully, she’d been lazing around feeling sorry for herself. Delaney had managed to make a somewhat acquaintance in a girl called Brooklyn in her biology class. Otherwise, she still felt lost as ever in this new school. She twisted the leather strap that always hugged her left wrist and shrugged, settling on a “nothing much” to answer his question. “How have you been? How was the bonfire?” She wondered, genuinely curious but also hoping that Luke would bring up Michael and give her some sort of hint about where she stood with him.

“It was cool,” he exclaimed nonchalant, though she could tell he was more excited to talk about it than he was letting on. “It’s too bad you couldn’t come.”

“Yeah, I was busy,” she lied. “I just hope Michael’s not upset with me,” she mumbled, barely even a whisper. She wasn’t sure if this was something she could talk to Luke about, but it was too late to turn back now.

“Why would he be?”

Luke seemed sincerely confused and Delaney realized that Michael must have not told them what she’d said to him. Of course he hadn’t, otherwise Luke probably wouldn’t be so kind to her now. “Oh, I don’t know,” she shrugged. “No one likes a flake.”

“Michael’s an easy going guy. I doubt he’d be upset about that. Besides, you had stuff to do,” he smiled, only serving to make her feel even guiltier. “I know people think he’s some big bad guy, but honestly he’s not. You should come sit with us at lunch!” He nearly shouted in his excitement. “I bet he’d be happy to see you again.”

\--

It took a bit of convincing (the entire duration of their maths lecture, in fact), but Delaney had eventually caved and accepted Luke’s invitation to lunch. She walked close behind him as he guided her to his usual table, a tray of cafeteria food in hand. (Mystery meat; though she wasn't sure she wanted to solve this mystery.) Her long legs wobbled with each step closer to that unmistakable blue head of hair. It's color had faded, she noticed, from a vibrant cyan to a cotton candy blue.

"Hey," Luke called out to his friends, sliding a chair out for Delaney before he pulled one out for himself. "Look who decided to sit with us!"

"Delaney!" Calum practically yelled, throwing his arms in the air and nearly smacking someone who had been walking behind him in the face.

She offered him a smile, taking note that Ashton wasn't sitting with them, but mostly focusing on Michael who had been staring off in another direction prior to her arrival. Before she could see what he was looking at he turned his head after receiving a slight nudge from Calum, a small smile beginning to take form on his lips when he saw Delaney setting down her tray to sit across from him.

"Hey, Laney," he greeted her, her heart fluttering nervously at the sound of her nickname falling from his lips. She’d argued with him about it before (mostly out of pure stubbornness), but now she was grateful to hear him using it. Maybe he wasn’t mad at her after all. She scanned his face for a few extra moments, hoping to see that her hopes were reality, as he popped a chip into his mouth with a loud crunch before rubbing his fingers together over the bag to dust off the crumbs.

She noticed Calum watching him, clearly disgusted since they had been sharing those chips, before he snatched the bag from Michael’s hands. It had been just a few staggered heartbeats too long before she realized that she didn’t greet him in return.

"Hey," she echoed, staring down at her food and pushing the oddly colored meat around with her plastic spork. She allowed her pulse to settle down to a normal pace now that she could gauge Michael’s attitude towards her. He seemed to have forgiven and forgotten if his relaxed smile was anything to go by.

She hoped it was.

“Whatcha reading?” Calum asked around a mouthful of the sandwich he’d been eating, gesturing towards the book on her lunch tray and breaking the short-lived awkward silence.

“Oh, uh, Little Women,” Delaney answered quietly. “It’s my favorite.”

“Cool,” Calum said with a nod.

“Isn’t there a movie of that?” Michael spoke up. “Wouldn’t you rather watch the movie than read the book?”

“There is,” she answered with a small laugh and slight roll of her eyes, “and I love the movie adaptation too, but watching a movie isn’t ever the same as reading a book.”

“Yeah,” he scoffed, biting into his slice of pizza. “It’s more fun.”

Delaney laughed at that as she reached for her backpack and slid the book into it. “Whatever.” She felt indescribably more at ease with the group of boys in front of her now that it seemed there were no hard feelings between her and Michael.

"Where's Ashton?"

"He doesn't even go here!" Luke shouted out of nowhere, a huge grin overtaking his features as he looked around the table for a reaction. He was obviously hoping for a laugh if his disappointed pout was any indication. Michael and Calum only rolled their eyes as Delaney sat confused. Luke slumped in his chair, "Mean Girls? No?" He sighed loudly, "Whatever. He goes to another school is what I meant."

"Oh. How did you guys meet?" She wondered, genuinely growing more and more curious about these boys who seemed to be best friends.

"I knew him through some mutual friends," Michael spoke again, causing Delaney to whip her head back in his direction.

"I see," she replied lamely, twisting her bracelet around her wrist.

"You’re always playing with that thing," Luke exclaimed, standing from his chair and bending over the table to look closer at Delaney's wrist. "What is it?"

Delaney flinched when Luke's fingers nearly brushed the leather strap that was perpetually wrapped around her forearm, examining the letters carved onto the worn material. Luke didn't seem to notice her reaction, but she could see from the curious look on Michael's face that he had.

"W.J.C.?" Luke asked again. "Is that some kind of religious thing? What's it stand for?"

"It's nothing really," she lied, quickly moving her hand beneath the table and out of sight. "I just found it one day and thought it was cool." Her eyes darted around the table, looking for anything to switch the subject to.

“What’s that?” She nodded at the object in Calum’s hands. “A CD?”

"Yeah!” Calum answered enthusiastically. “My sister’s friend’s brother let me borrow this Green Day record, well it’s technically a bootleg, but it’s so good. All the songs are amazing and I love the singer’s attitude.”

Delaney nodded silently as he continued rambling.

“Hey!” Calum shouted suddenly, startling everyone around him with a bang of his hands against the table. “He’s Billie Joe Armstrong. Aren’t you Delaney Armstrong? He’s from California too! Are you related?”

Delaney shook her head, an apologetic smile on her lips when she noticed Calum’s excitement die just a bit.

“Oh, well he’s a really cool musician. My favorite song is…”

Delaney sighed, glad for the easy topic change. She twisted the leather around in her hand again beneath the table as Calum continued to educate her on the history of Green Day. Her relief was short lived, however, when she looked back up at Michael. His green eyes watched her, unabashed.

Delaney believed that the scariest people in this world were those who searched deep beneath the surface. They equipped themselves with limited air supply, took a deep breath, and dove straight into the darkness. Michael was practically a stranger, but somehow he saw her. Not just as she portrayed herself in company, but as she truly was. It was daunting to say the least. With each blink of his eyelids she felt as though he was peeling back another layer of her skin, stripping her to the core where her secrets were imprisoned and knocking down every last barrier until she could hide them no longer.

\--

Delaney was relieved to finally be going home after her day. She planned on finishing her homework and then napping until dinner. She stood at her locker, filling her bag with the notebooks and textbooks she’d need tonight, scanning one last time to be sure she had everything before slamming the door shut.

She jumped when she saw Michael leaning against the locker next to her.

“Oh my god!” She gasped. “What the hell?”

He merely chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mirth as his lips pulled into a smirk. "Not going ask why I'm not in detention?"

It was a joke; she knew it. She became one hundred percent certain that he wasn’t upset with her the moment he offered to walk with her to her class after lunch. God, he’d even held her books! Still, she was overwhelmed with guilt over what she’d said to him and she wished so much she could take it back.

"Look. I'm sorry," she finally told him. The words had been on the tip of her tongue the entire day since she’d sat with him at lunch. It felt good to finally be offering them to him, if only he’d accept.

"It's fine," he shrugged, not needing her to elaborate on her apology.

"No it's not. I shouldn't have said those things I said. I'm not good with people."

"Could have had me fooled," he smiled.

Delaney scoffed, punching his shoulder lightly in feigned offense though she was laughing too. His eyes softened as he watched her, his smile sweet and wistful. For what, she wasn’t sure. What she was sure of, however, was that the way he was looking at her was making her nervous and her stomach felt like it had been turned into a butterfly conservatory. Her fingers twitched and she looked down, latching around the familiar material around her wrist; her ever-present anchor when her thoughts threatened to float further away from shore.

Her eyes moved back upward, locking once more with the viridescence of his own. The longer she held his stare, the more she felt she was moving deeper and deeper into a vast forest of evergreen. She feared she wouldn’t be able to find the way out, but she could hear a faint whisper in the corner of her mind assuring her that she wouldn’t need to. Shelter could be just beyond the trees if she was brave enough to search.

Michael quirked a brow at her as she lost herself to her mind, the bar pierced through his skin moving up with his inquisitive expression. She bit her lip nervously as the memory of Luke questioning her bracelet at lunch flooded back into her mind. She surely wasn’t ready to face more questions. But questions never came.

Instead, that same kind smile pulled up the corners of Michael’s lips, his hands coming out of his pockets to be held up in front of him. His wrists were adorned with dozens of small bracelets: from plain rubber elastics, to black jelly bracelets and braided bands. He untied one particularly colorful one off of his arm, dangling the rainbow bracelet made of cotton embroidery floss in front of her before laying his hand out flat. His palm was faced upwards and he wiggled his fingers as if he was waiting for something. When she stood there motionless, he sighed and took her bare right wrist into his hand.

“That leather looks pretty expensive and I can tell it means a lot to you,” he explained, as he tied his bracelet around her wrist. “I figure you could twist the shit out of this one instead.”

She lifted her newly decorated wrist closer up to her eyes. She touched the colors gently as if they would fade and crumble away at the slightest brush of her fingers. Her heart swelled as she gazed at the bracelet, knowing she would treasure each loose thread and frayed end dearly. “You’re giving me a friendship bracelet?”

“Don’t get all mushy. It’s just a bracelet,” he remarked. Her heart sank and she looked away from him, disappointed. “But we are friends.”

Her head snapped up fast enough to give her whiplash and fast enough to be considered embarrassing.

She couldn’t care less though, because with those four simple words her nerves were completely erased. She beamed at him, fiddling with the new yarn around her wrist.

“Friends. I think I can manage that.”

 


End file.
